


Lies, Liquor, Love

by oxforddrama



Series: Lies, Liquor, Love [1]
Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Awkward Romance, Desert Island, Desert Island Fic, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean, Islands, Movie: Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the Black Pearl, Pirates, Pirates of the Caribbean References, Romance, Tropes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-10 23:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15960248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxforddrama/pseuds/oxforddrama
Summary: Will Turner is trapped aboard the Flying Dutchman. The plan may have been Captain Jack Sparrow's all along, but due to some strange part of his heart that had a fondness for the lad, Sparrow felt a pang of guilt from his greed. When Elizabeth Swann joins the crew to save Turner, Sparrow finds his loyalty and trust come into question as he lusts for the governess-turned-pirate.





	1. Stuck

**Author's Note:**

> First published on April 9, 2009, some editing and updating through 2015-2017. It's an ongoing fic. Hope you enjoy it.

A salty breeze lifted the sails of the Black Pearl and hoisted it further at sea. The day was fading into dusk and the ship, its captain and its crew were left in the loom of the cloud's shadows. All of the men were on deck. Some were singing old sea chanteys their fathers taught them. Some were clapping and stamping their feet. A few just stood or sat in place laughing heartily. It was such a raucous noise—men's laughter. Elizabeth had grown to love their boisterousness, though. The governess-turned-pirate was sitting on the steps just below the bridge where Gibbs stood chuckling at the crew below, and keeping the boat on the right course by wheel. Elizabeth watched them and thought back to the times where she was allowed to come aboard, as a small child, with her father on voyages with the British Royal Navy. It only happened twice, before puberty hit and she was deemed more a curse than a child. Elizabeth felt her brow furrow as she thought more about it, and had to shake the feeling. A warm breeze blew past the crew and a few not dancing stopped and lifted their faces to the sky in an almost religious admiration for the beautiful night ahead. Elizabeth did as well.

For once, she wasn't being a  _lady_ , hiding in her room waiting to be summoned. She was on the deck, in the laughter, or selfishly busying herself into conversation whenever she wanted. She was one of the crew. Elizabeth Swann had been aboard the Black Pearl for what seemed an eternity, and though she had grown accustom to a life with the crew and the "captain" Jack Sparrow, she was getting restless. She wondered how much longer they had before she would be on land once again. The sea was intoxicating, but land life could be just as lovely—the mingling with neighbors, the shopping, the restaurants. Here it was the same clothes, living off of the sea, and no conveniences of any kind. Most might call her spoiled, but sometimes she missed her nanny and her plush canopy bed.

For selfish reasons still unbeknownst to Miss Swann, Captain Sparrow tricked the young William Turner into boarding the Flying Dutchman, and Elizabeth joined the Pearl's crew again, hoping to get her lover back. Jack had been doing whatever he can to avoid any sort of reveal of how Will truly ended up on that boat. For now, masking the young man as a brave but naïve sport would have to do.

Elizabeth stood up and walked to the edge of the ship. She leaned over the side and stared at the sky. Footsteps could be heard behind her, approaching in a muddled rhythm. She sighed.

"Don't worry, love," said a rather deep, drunken but steady voice behind her. She relaxed some and watched the sea as he spoke more. "We  _will_  get the little lad back so you two can do... Whatever it is you were intending on doing." He said, one hand flailing in the air as he spoke in her ear. He was only an inch away from her face, and she could feel his hot breath in her ear. Elizabeth wanted to move, but she didn't want to startle Jack by jerking away quickly—or give him a reason to feel like he had some sort of effect on her. He looked down at her waist and placed his hand in her natural curve. Elizabeth turned around to meet Jack's eyes. He stopped and stared at her with a smirk.

"We were intending on  _marrying_ ," she replied in clear frustration.

"I'm sorry," he said, putting the bottle of rum, he had had by his side, to his cheek. "I never meant to belittle anything." He took a sip.

Jack released a staggered hiccup and attempted to drink from the now-empty bottle. Thwarted by the emptiness that seemed to always consume the glasses he found, he threw it behind him, hitting one crew member on the head, and letting it crash to the floor. "Listen," he began, Elizabeth watching him suspiciously as he continued to stand too close to her, "If it were up to me, we would just go to that bloody Dutchman and I would help your bonnie lad escape."

"Then why don't you?"

"It's not quite that simple," he moved in closer to her, and she could not move anywhere, stuck between his body and the side of the ship. His arms were on either side of her, holding onto the side of the ship with a firm grasp. She felt his hips against hers, and his nose was nearly touching hers. "See, the Flying Dutchman is a gambler—it is  _kinda_  what he is known for."

"So..?" she grabbed one of his arms to try and get free. Jack looked down and his smirk faded. His free hand began flailing around as he spoke, fighting back a burp. Elizabeth took that moment to move out from under him to beside him. If he was going to pester her now, she would at least need some sort of advantage.

"So..." he thought for a moment, "We have to haggle with the whole lot o' 'em." He turned to face her again.

"Why can't you just be a pirate and fight him!"

"Because you cannot win with the Flying Dutchman, love." Jack said and stared into her eyes.

Elizabeth stared at the captain for a moment, but felt as though all hope was lost. She pulled away and sat down on the steps under the bridge once more. "What is a good bargaining tool, then, Captain?" she asked sarcastically.

Jack walked over and sat down next to her, handing her a bottle of rum that was in the clutches of a sleeping crew-member. "Bottoms, up, love," he said and watched her as she examined the bottle and then took a large drink. "A fair bargain would be some sort of treasure... After all, what pirate doesn't love treasure?" His eyes were glazed over and he stared at Elizabeth, his face close to her neck as she sat up slightly higher than him and continued to drink the rum. "But of course, being that we are dealing with some of the most gruesome pirates of all the seas," his eyes closed in on hers and she stared at him, tipsy, "We need to find something better than treasure."

"And what is better than treasure?" she said after a small hiccup. "Rum?"

"Nah, goes straigh' through 'em!" He moved his fingers down her arm and stared at her body. "Besides, I wouldn't give up me rum for anything in this world."

Elizabeth laughed and jerked away. "Nothing on this earth is better than rum?"

"Nuffin," he said, smirking.

"Well, what about the love of another?" she said smiling and moving in closer to him. His eyes deepened and he smiled sinisterly.

"Aye," he whispered. Their faces were nearly an inch apart, and Jack could not look away from her soft lips.

Elizabeth placed her hand on his cheek, but before they could press privileged flesh to squalor skin, the ship rocked and Jack ran over to Mr. Gibbs, who had been steering in his place. "What is that racket, Mr. Gibbs?!"

"Aye, sir; I'm not so sure!"

"Well, get sure, Gibby, lad!"

"Aye, aye, Cap'n Sparrow!"

The ship rocked back and forth and Elizabeth sat, unmoved, on the steps, finishing off the bottle of rum. She laughed to herself, feeling triumphant. "Pirates," she sighed as she rolled her eyes. Gibbs looked down at the crew and tried to shout through the wind and noise, but was unsuccessful. Cotton's parrot was frantically flying around, followed closely by the tongue less Cotton who ran after him, jumping in the air like a circus act. Marty was trapped in an intense game of tug-of-war with Pintel over the sails' ropes. Ragetti attempted to be the peacemaker, only to lose his dirty glass eye in the process, sending him downstairs to catch it. Jack Sparrow ran around everyone and found Elizabeth still in the same spot. "Did you drink the rum?" he asked, as though he were breaking out in hives. Swann tossed the bottle behind her and the hollow shatter made Jack cringe.

The Black Pearl took another blow to the side. Ragetti was adjusting his glass eye and coming up the stairs, but as Jack was fervently racing back to Joshamee Gibbs, he tripped over the pirate's head. Face wedged in between the cracks of the deck floor, Cotton assisted his drunk captain back to his feet. "Thanks, Cotton," he said, and the other saluted and continued chasing after his parrot who kept squawking, "Fire!"

Making his way to Mr. Gibbs he asked once more what the commotion was. "Somethin' is hittin' us from the eas,' Sparrow!"

"The east?" Jack repeated, slightly confused. He walked over to the east side of the ship and could see a ship, half a mile away, firing at the Black Pearl. "Not me Pearl," Jack muttered and his eyes darkened.

"Cap'n?" Gibbs called from the wheel. Jack turned around slowly and looked at Gibbs sinisterly,

"If it's a fight they want, it's a fight they'll get."

"Aye!" Gibbs agreed. His eyes changing to match the same game face as his leader.

Captain Jack Sparrow began walking along the deck, calling down to all quarters and crannies of the ship, his orders to his men. Closing in on the Pearl, was a British ship that had been spotted several times at Port Royal, and aboard this mighty ship, with several cannons all in a row, was none other than Lord Cutler Beckett. Elizabeth walked over to Jack who put an arm around her shoulder.

"That, m'dear," he began, pointing to the ship, "is our newest target. Are you ready?"

"Sure, Jack." Elizabeth said with a stern face. "Tell me what I should do."

"Gather the men at the Pearl's cannons," he said deeply, and she did as told. Yelling at the crew, she assisted Marty with one canon, and they began firing back at the ship. Other crew members below quickly readied the canons closest to them to follow suit. Lord Beckett and a few men climbed onto a dingy, and floated their way to the Black Pearl as the fire continued above their heads. Beckett reached his hand into the air to signal a cease-fire, and Jack did the same out of political respect—not that he respected Beckett, but he certainly liked making the man think he did. Pintel and Ragetti assisted in lifting the British Royal Navy's finest onto the ship. Jack strutted over to Beckett, followed shortly by Elizabeth.

"Captain Jack Sparrow." Beckett addressed him slowly. "Well, well, well, the governor has been looking for his daughter, you know."

"Aye!" Jack said. "At that I am sure, mate. But I have some unfinished business with a certain someone that involves this certain someone that is standing by all these some ones here on this, my ship, the Pearl. Savvy?" The buzz from the rum was wearing off slowly.

Lord Beckett examined the crew, Miss Swann, and the captain, his face overcast with disgust. "Sure, whatever you say, Sparrow. But the governor has requested that I retrieve his daughter."

"Well, I'm not going," Elizabeth spoke out. "I'm with him," she said, standing beside Jack. Sparrow looked around at his crew and then looked back at Beckett, eyes wide. He cleared his throat.

"Yes! You cannot retrieve said daughter, because this daughter is also the love of a lad we are trying to save and if we do not save him, she will never see him again... Think, Lord Beckett." Jack walked towards Cutler, taking the lord's hat off and examining it. "You don't want to be the one to break up a love, do you?" Beckett was angry and Jack gave him back his hat cautiously. Beckett snatched it out of his hand. "Nice hat, mate," Jack added quickly before turning to stand beside Elizabeth once more.

"Yes," Beckett said, aggravation swelling red in his eyes, "I don't really care about their love, however noble your mission may appear to you. Last I heard, Turner is stuck on the Flying Dutchman; no one returns from such a fate as that." He and his men laughed.

"I'm sorry, Cutler, but you are wasting my time, mate. We have things we have to do and people we have to see, and swiftly at that—I'm afraid you are going to have to leave now." Jack retorted.

"Oh is that so?"

"Yes, it is." Jack smirked.

"You'll have to force us off."

"As you wish, Lord Becket," Jack said and smiled at Gibbs. All of the Pearl's crew then took to pushing all the men off of the ship and into the water, each man landing, one by one, into the cold sea. Dusk was finally wrapping its arms in its rough embrace. The men began swimming and Beckett was more infuriated than before.

"You'll regret this, Sparrow!" Water spewed from his mouth.

"Make me regret it, next time,  _Lord_  Beckett," Jack challenged with satisfied eyes, and Cotton dropped the dingy down below.

"Fire!" Shouted Cotton's parrot and Beckett's men started. Jack's crew laughed and watched as the men climbed atop the dingy and rowed their way back to their ship. The crew cheered and Elizabeth and Jack hugged, ecstatic at the turn of events.

Realizing what she was doing, Elizabeth ripped out of his arms and attempted looking casual, hoping the hug went unnoticed. Jack smirked at her, "You know you want it."

"In your dreams, Jack!"

"That it is, love. That it is."


	2. You Can't Be Trusted

The crew had been aboard the Black Pearl for two months now, and Elizabeth was the only member of the vessel not experiencing withdrawals from the lack of rum. But the taste of sugarcane and molasses hadn't left the back of her mouth since the day she took from Jack's bottle. If she was going to cope, she presumed, it would best to be one of the men drinking to forget that she had been out at sea for as long as she had. Elizabeth did miss her home, although she tried not to talk about it to Jack. Jack would do everything he could to convince her that she just needed a new idea of home, and that only made matters worse for her. She didn't want convincing, she just wanted something more settled.

Up on deck, Pintel and Ragetti seemed to be having a heated discussion about something. A few men would turn to watch them occasionally as they got more and more animated. They both thought it clever to do some fishing for food. No one else had wanted to do it, anyway, and they knew it would put them in the captain's good graces. But Ragetti quickly resented the idea once Pintel realized that his shipmate's eye would make for a fantastic lure. At first Pintel seemed as if he was joking, but Ragetti's great offense stirred a more aggressive response from both of them. Elizabeth could hear them down below and was starting to worry, along with the rest of the crew, that one of them would overboard. Again.

The two bickered as they continued to lift nets full of small fish. "It's my eye and I believe I shoul' 'ave the right to how it is used," Ragetti argued.

"And I think you are a bloody fool! The crew needs the food, an' I'm givin' it to 'em whether you like it or not."

"I won't 'ave any part of it." Pintel tried to reach for the eye but Ragetti shut his eyelids tight in refusal. Pintel stuck his tongue out like a child and continued hoisting the net over the edge of the ship. At the very least they could feed the crew a few small fish.

It seemed that Jack was encountering the worst case of withdrawal among any of the crew, and he decided that because he had appointed the girl Keeper of the Drink, it was her fault that the rum was gone, the food was sparse, and birds were playing keep-away with his hat. What Sparrow did not know (or would not actually admit to) was he never gave Miss Swann that title, the rum and food were gone because the crew feasted after their victory over Lord Beckett, and he was the only one that could see the birds. Since that morning, Elizabeth had been peering through a small window a bit away from where she was, locked in the brig for her imaginary misconduct.

"Bloody pirates!" She fell to the floor and sprawled her legs and arms in front of her." Locking me in the brig!" Elizabeth kicked aside a nearby empty crate and a bottle of rum rolled out from underneath. "I'll show them!" She quickly guzzled the bottle down. The effects hit her with the strength of ten men—so to speak, not many that fit that description aboard the Black Pearl. Elizabeth passed out with bottle still in hand and was soothed by the sounds of boots stomping above on deck.

Above the brig, several men were climbing over one another as Pintel brought out the fish. "Hold your horses, men! We 'ave to cook it firs'!" The crowd cheered. The Captain and Gibbs pushed through the crew and made way to the front.

"Well done, gentlemen!" Jack said, clapping his hands together. "I must say you have almost given yourselves the titles of Official Fishermen of Fishes."

Gibbs looked confused. "Isn't that what fishermen are? They fish for… fish?"

"Precisely why they would deserve the title," Jack said as he patted Pintel on the back.

"What did you use for bait?" Gibbs asked. Ragetti appeared from behind a nearby mast, cleaning off his eye and placing it back in his head. "Oh," Jack said, somewhat disgusted. "Well, never you mind. How are we going to cook these wonderful trophies?"

"Uh…" Pintel had yet to think of that.

"I know how," Ragetti said. "I know how to build a fire pit."

"We're on a wooden ship," Pintel said in a reprimanding tone. The crew looked disappointed.

"Why aren't we using the kitchen?" Gibbs asked. Pintel hid behind Ragetti.

"The stove ain't workin' righ' now, sirs," Ragetti said, solemnly.

Gibbs sighed. "We still can't build a fire out in the middle of the ship, though... Perhaps we could fix the stove?"

"There're supplies under!" Pintel said excitedly, pushing Ragetti aside again, hoping to redeem himself from his prior bad news. Ragetti grumbled as he caught his footing.

"To the brig!" Jack shouted and threw his arms in the air and lead the way. The crew followed, cheering loudly.

Halfway down the stairs, Jack fell as he furiously swatted at the air. "No! No! Get away, beasts! Back!" He rolled across the floor, hitting Miss Swann's cell door.

"Jack! Jack!" Gibbs called to him as a few men ran after him. He and Marty pulled him off the ground. "What's wrong with you, Sparrow?"

"The birds! The birds!"

"Bloody hell, there are no birds, Cap'n!" Gibbs said ripping away from the man.

Jack looked at him shocked. "No birds?"

"No birds," Gibbs repeated, as if speaking to a child who just woke from a nightmare.

"Well, of course there are no birds, Gibbs. What the hell's the matter wiff you, anyway?" He stood up and dusted himself off. "Marty?"

"Aye, Cap'n?"

"Thank you for helping me up."

"Aye."

"Now, crawl your small self into that cell and wake the lass up."

"Finally lettin' her free?" Lejon asked, disbelieving, as the rest of the crew managed to crowd around.

"Well, we do need her help if we wanna' cook somethin'." The crew laughed at Jack's crude joke. Marty took no time at all to climb into the cell and place a hand on the woman's face. "Wake up, darlin'," he said, snickering. Elizabeth opened her eyes and made contact with his. Screaming, she jumped up from her place and dropped the empty bottle on Marty's head.

"Ow! That hur'!"

"G'mornin', poppet," Pintel said with a smirk.

"What do all of you want? I was trying to get some sleep!"

"We need your 'elp," replied Ragetti.

"Oh, you do, do you?"

"Yes, see, we need help making a fire pit and you happen to be in the cell with the things we need," Jack said, looking up as though he had confused himself somehow. Elizabeth walked over to the cell door and looked at Jack.

"Persuade me," she smirked. The crew snickered. Marty crawled through the bars and back to Lejon.

"Who do ya' think will win, mate?" Marty whispered to Lejon, pulling out two shillings.

"I bet three shillings that she could take 'im." Lejon laughed.

Gibbs grabbed the cupronickel coins from their hands. "An' I bet you two better stop bettin' away your money 'fore they'll be none left," he scolded. The two crew members hung their heads. Marty attempted to snatch the coins back from him, but Gibbs held his fist high above the pirate's head.

Jack was staring at Elizabeth with his usual devious smirk. "I think if I were on the other side of these bars, love, I wouldn't have to do much," he said. Once again he was standing as close as he could to her. Jack always did that, even when she didn't want him to. And he always had this way about his words. He never so eloquently explained himself so much as the way his lips moved and his eyes danced when he was aroused by someone or something. Elizabeth felt something in her stir. She chalked it up to the rum.

"You do think a lot of yourself," Elizabeth smiled.

"That I do." Jack moved away from the bars and Elizabeth could still not stop smirking. "Now, I will let you out of there, if you help us with our feast."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked, still suspicious of them.

"Cook!" He threw his hands in the air as though it were obvious.

"What?"

"What, what? Do you not know how?"

"I might know a little, but not much! I am the governor's daughter."

"'Spare the rod, spoil the child,' eh?" Jack chuckled.

"How dare you?" Elizabeth stamped. She turned to Pintel and Ragetti. "Let me out!"

"Sorry. We mean no disrespec' at all. But we can' go against the Cap'n," Pintel said.

"Fine!" She walked back over to Jack and held onto the bars before her for support. He smiled. "You know, you aren't doing a good job of persuading."

"Right you are, dear. How 'bout, I cook, but you help me gut the lil' buggers." Jack smiled at Elizabeth and grabbed her hands, holding them tightly around the bars. Elizabeth looked down and smirked. Shaking her head so her hair moves out of her face she moved in closer. "Fine. We'll work together."

"If you so wish, love," Jack laughed. "Togever it is. All my men: hoist our food into the galley. Miss Swann and I will do the rest." He opened the cell. "After you," he said, holding out his arm. She took it and walked out in a prideful manner—head high, hand gingerly holding onto the captain's arm. Nothing of affection, but all of the same feigned respect she had learned as a child.

...

In the cramped galley, Jack and Elizabeth sat on the same side of the table. He worked on getting the old stove to actually function as it should, using some of the supplies the men carried up from the brig. But even the small flame he managed to get wasn't enough.

Elizabeth turned to him when she heard him grunt. "What's wrong?"

"I think we are going to need that fire pit after all."

"Isn't cooking what a galley is for?" she asked condescendingly.

"Usually." Jack looked at it with his lip curled and two fingers scratching his temple. Like a caveman, he began poking and prodding at the pot with one long finger. Elizabeth giggled.

"What?" Jack said smiling.

"You're so odd."

"Well, I know that!" He laughed as well. "Go get the eye man."

"You'll have to get Ragetti yourself, I'm gutting fish."

"Wouldn't you rather get him?"

"Let me guess, you don't want to go out there?"

"No, not really," Jack admitted. "Would you want to be out there with all of those hungry men?"

Elizabeth just looked at Jack, knowingly. "That's my life here."

"Fine." Jack suddenly looked more annoyed than anything else, and he stamped off and found Ragetti still in the cell. He and Pintel were arguing over which crate best suits a fire pit.

"I think that met-al crate will do jus' fine," Ragetti said, even his fake eye fixated on Pintel.  
"An' I think that it won' hold nuffin'! We need somethin' bigger," Pintel said snarling.

"Shut up, the both o' you!" Jack said. The two stopped dead with what they were doing. "Just give me the bloody crate. I'll do the rest."

"Yes, sir, Cap'n Sparrow," Ragetti said nervously. "We didn't mean nuffin' by arguin'."

"You two never do," Jack said quietly and walked back to the galley.

...

Elizabeth was gutting fish. Her brow a little sweaty, her hands dirty and fish heads and bones scattered on the floor by her feet. "Now there's a sight for sore eyes," Jack teased. Elizabeth looked up and smiled. "Did you get help?"

"I don't need those idiots' help. I've got it."

"Fine."

The two were working on their separate projects. Jack had a nice fire going over the broken stove, and Elizabeth finished gutting the fish. Her hands were sore and her mouth dry.  _Bloody pirates. Never lending a helping hand for anyone._  Jack saw that she was finished and began helping her dump the fish into the fire. They sat down on the floor on the other side of the galley, exhausted from the hard work. Pintel and Ragetti were doing a dance with Marty while Gibbs continued to steer outside. The men never needed help entertaining themselves. Elizabeth was humming along to the strange song the men were singing and Jack joined in. They both looked over at one another and started laughing. "A pirate's life for me," Jack sang softly. Elizabeth sighed. "Do I just take your breath away?" he asked.

"You wish," Elizabeth scoffed, "I am just tired."

"Me too, love. The fish are burning nicely."

"Oh yes. It would look delicious if I hadn't been the one to gut the fish."

"Well maybe if you were a bit kinder to your cap'n I wouldn't 'ave put you up to it."

"Me?"

"Yes you!"

"I was kind."

"You challenged me. And challenging a cap'n does not lead to pleasant results. I am sure poor William is figurin' that out right now." Jack watched her inquisitively. Elizabeth made eye contact and they looked at each other for close to ten seconds. Finally Miss Swann pulled her eyes away and rested her head against the wall behind them. Jack put his hand on her knee. She just tried to ignore the touch.

"Y'know, Elizabeth, we only 'ave a small amount of time before the Pearl reaches the Dutchman, an' you will be wiff your love." He leaned in closer to her ear. "But what are you going to do if we can't save 'im?" He moved closer to her.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and turned her head to look at him. She didn't expect to be almost nose-to-nose with the man. "I am sorry, Captain Sparrow, but I do not believe that this is very appropriate conversation to be having with a lady of my social standing."

"You've been meddlin' with pirates. You 'ave no social standings anymore, dear." Jack said smirking. Elizabeth could not look away. But Jack, knowing he had won her gaze—even for a moment—was satisfied for now. He sat back in his original position. "You're startin' to become more like us, Miss Swann."

"And what makes you say that?" Elizabeth felt a tinge of spite.

"You can't be trusted."

"Excuse me?" she asked, offended.

Jack yelled from his seat out to the crew that it was time to eat once he smelled the char on the crew started to settle into the galley, climbing over each other for food.

He rested his head against the wall, feeling satiated already, and pulled his hat over his eyes. "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me," he sang gently with a chuckle.


	3. Go With the Current

The captain stood at the ship's wheel, gazing onward at the never-ending sea. It was nights such as these that made him feel some semblance of blessed to have never known a landlocked life—or at least drink away that which he remembered. Outward and onward, as far as the stars could reach, were waves and ripples—a current taking him to his next mission. It was such a pity, even, to think that some horrid part of him was holding up part of a bargain to a woman who he wasn't even sure would make a good lay. But he was holding out hope that she would change her mind. A woman in a skirt could will him into sins against all breeds of flesh, but a woman with a bit of dirt under her nails could break him—a few had in the past.

The horizon was met with infallible vastness—a dark nothing of stars and occasional clouds. The sky had nothing to show, yet nothing to hide. Gibbs was a few feet away snoring, lying in the fetal position against the hardwood of the Black Pearl. He often did that when he slept above the cabin beds. Little could pull Jack's attention away from the sky and the sea on peaceful nights like these, but one soft, small hand on his shoulder did.

Jack saw from the side of his eye Elizabeth standing next to him, watching the sky as he had. He didn't face her, but he didn't have to. "It's nice," she said. "It makes me not want to leave."

Jack did his best to straighten up his back. "You don't 'ave to," he said earnestly.

It was in these moments that Elizabeth wasn't so sure what Jack's true intentions were—whether he wanted her there for companionship (if he were capable of any such thing beyond Gibbs), or if he was just hoping for another good woman to pillage. The mystery of Jack was what seemed to pull Elizabeth in; she would never admit to wanting him, but being curious of him, yes.

"How much longer might we have before we reach the Flying Dutchman?" Elizabeth asked, breaking through the silence.

Jack wish she hadn't asked. "Not sure," he said. "S'far as I can tell, they should still be coasting—unawares of anyone trying to find 'em or wanting to find 'em."

Elizabeth watched Jack with his hands firmly placed on the wheel. He didn't seem willing to move them about or wanting to decorate his speech with his usual animations. He was a more focused Jack than she was used to by now. "I can take the wheel if you want," she offered.

Jack looked down to Elizabeth for the first time since she came up to the deck. "You think you're ready for that, love?" he smirked.

"Only one way to find out," she replied with a raised eyebrow.

Jack moved out of the way for Elizabeth to stand in front of the wheel, holding out a hand to it as if he were showcasing it. Elizabeth put both hands on the wheel. The wood was polished and finer than she expected it to be. She ran her hands over it smoothly—no splintering or chipped paint like some other worn parts of the ship. The captain moved behind her, placing both hands on top of hers. His chest was pressed against her back, and she could suddenly feel how cold the rest of the night felt in contrast to his warmth. "The trick is to stay with the current, but never deviate from the course," he said. "Once you've set a ship in motion, it's going to stay there, so long as the current is stable." He spoke more clearly than Elizabeth could remember. His speech was deliberate and focused.

"Sober looks good on you," she teased.

Jack let out a sigh. "That I wish."

...

Elizabeth woke up the next morning to the usual noise on deck. Jack was walking around, arms flailing about as they usually were, and Elizabeth wondered where the man from last night had gone. She then cursed herself for wondering such a thing at all. Their mission was to save Will—her true love. She couldn't be worried about a petty criminal of the sea.

Jack spotted her walking across the deck. Elizabeth picked up Ragetti's eye off of the ground, using a piece of scarf to avoid actually touching it. He shuddered a bit as she did so. Gibbs was speaking to Jack about a possible storm headed their way, but the captain wasn't listening. He nodded his head as if recognizing that what Gibbs was saying was important, but instead he was watching the way Elizabeth moved. She had strides of virginal focus and intent. He would give anything to be the one to take that from her, to make her anew. Her hair was swept in her face from the sweat of the sun beating against her, much as many others in the crew. Her skin was a bit darker than the milky alabaster tone she climbed aboard with a year ago when they first met. She was someone else entirely.

Miss Swann passed the eye onto Ragetti and turned around to see Jack staring at her. She smirked before heading across to look out at the sea, avoiding his gaze for too long. They had been caught in that game before, and she was no longer comfortable egging it on. It was one thing to play with his heart to make him vulnerable for her own gains. She knew that if she played his game for too long, however, she'd end up the one losing in the end.  _It would never work out between us_ , she thought.

The again, she did wonder about the captain steering his ship last night. She wondered where he was during the day. She wondered if she would see him again.


End file.
